Oh no, she didn't!

I am sure you all think from the title of this blog entry that I got in a fight at Sonic or something.  Not the case.  Although I have been known to resort to name-calling when I'm in the mood for a Vanilla Coke and there isn't a space to park.  That's a story for another day.

No, today much to my shock, horror and disappointment, my dog Elke took a whiz on my duvet cover.  It was on the floor, she must hate my guts, and the rest is history.  Then I freaked out. On her.  She's outside and doesn't even act like she wants to face me.  She should trust her instincts.

 

I think I am going to send her to the puppy jail.  Here's the picture I will give to the police when they book her and need to have something for her mug shot:

She was a baby when I shot the picture and her mischievous nature apparently hasn't changed much.  I was minding my own business taking a shower.  From our shower, a showeree can easily see into our bedroom which is where said incident occurred.  There I was, not a care in the world except whether to regular or deep condition my hair today UNTIL...out of the corner of my eye, I see a little white tail shoot straight up for the sky.  She was looking back at me over her shoulder like she knew was destined for problems.  She must have been mad at me, but if this is in reaction to me getting in the shower, than she has the most serious case of separation anxiety I have ever seen and we need to get his pooch some prozac!  

Once I realized what was happening, I screamed her name, her sister and littermate, Scout barked at her.  I knew it was too late, but I still ran out of the shower and escorted the guilty Elke straight outside.  Goofball dog.  And Scout was just as upset as I was.  She knows how I roll and I discipline just like the military.  One of you is guilty, you both get the punishment. Scout didn't even fight it, she just rolled outside right behind tail-between-her-legs, Elke.